Push the Bar
by Inclined
Summary: Ron has been friends with Hermione for a long time. Now, he wants something more. How far can he push the bar without ruining their friendship?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, let's start this out with a little author's note.  Typical I don't own these, blah, blah, but this is just something I'd like to see happen.  In the same breath, I feel very apprehensive about this, just because it is a little different than a lot of the stuff I see written here.  Regardless, reviews are greatly appreciated, positive or negative, I love feedback.  Hope you enjoy the story.

_Her blue eyes were glowing gently as the sun set.  Her lips were stretched slightly into a gentle smile.  And her hand was in his as they sauntered through the grounds, stopping beneath a tree to sit.  She rested her head on his shoulder, and he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, smiling as she looked up at him.  Slowly, her eyes closed, and he leaned forward, eager to meet her inviting lips—_

"Man," Ron mumbled as the sunlight streamed between the curtains of his four-poster, waking him inopportunely.

"Ugh," Harry groaned as he stumbled out of bed.  "This week has been way too long."

"I second that," yawned Neville.  "We're just lucky we have Hogsmeade this weekend.  A little time to relax at least."

"Relax, yeah," Harry said as he rolled his eyes.

"Harry," Ron announced sleepily, "and Padma are going to Hogsmeade… together."

"What?" asked the muffled voice of Dean, still buried under his pillow.

"Really have a thing for Ravenclaws, don't you Harry?" joked Seamus.

"Funny, funny," Harry said as he fished out some robes.  "I'm kind of nervous… but… you know, I think it will be fun."

"Well, no matter what happens between you and Padma, it's a break for the rest of us.  I could really go for a butterbeer…" Seamus said anxiously.  "Ron, do you want to go with us?"

"What?" said Ron, shaking himself.  "Oh, er… I dunno.  I was thinking I might, just, well, do other stuff."

Even Neville raised his eyebrows at this remark.

"What kind of other stuff?" asked Harry.

"Well," gulped Ron, "I was thinking about paying a visit to Fred and George."

He grinned at the chorus of "ohs" and "neats," perfectly aware that he intended to do nothing of the sort.  *But what I _do want to do,* he thought with a deep breath as he pulled on his socks, *is going to make acing all my N.E.W.T.'s seems like a piece of cake."_


	2. Chapter 2

Friday evening had come at last—the weekend had arrived, much to the relief of every student at Hogwarts.  The students were noisier than usual clearing the Great Hall after dinner that evening, and for Gryffindors at least, even more rambunctious in the Common Room.  Eventually, the games of Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap drew to a close, and the students drifted back to their dormitories, many ushered by Hermione, who went above and beyond what was expected of her as a Prefect.

Ron lingered in the Common Room as Harry headed towards their dormitory.  He pretended to straighten one of the games of Wizard Chess until Hermione came back down.

"Well Ron, I think that's enough," she said, pushing a strand of her brown hair back behind her ears, "We'd better get to bed too."

"Actually," croaked Ron.  "Ahem.  Actually," he said again, "there's something I'd like to ask you."  He stopped.

"…Yes?" Hermione prompted him.

"Er… well, with Hogsmeade tomorrow, you know, Harry's going to be with Padma, I thought maybe, I mean, if you want to, you could come to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Well, sure, Ron," said Hermione casually.  "Actually, since Ginny was heading off with Dean, and Harry was going to be with Padma, I just kind of assumed we'd be doing something together."

"Oh," said Ron.  "Right."

"Anyway, good night, Ron."

"Right.  Good night."

It seemed to Ron that Hermione floated back up the staircase, while he on the other hand, lumbered up his with great difficulty.  Of course they would go to Hogsmeade together.  They always did stuff together.  That's what friends did.  *I hope,* Ron thought wishfully, as he finally tucked himself into bed, "that she doesn't want to stay friends forver.*  With that he closed his eyes, and found not blackness, but instead the same figure dancing across his eyelids that had danced through his dreams since his first year at Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3

The Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade visit was a particularly chilly one.  Ron even found himself pulling out his winter cloak.

"Nice idea," said Harry, following suit of Ron.  Ron gave a nervous sort of laugh.  Harry stared at him quizzically.  "You look kind of pale, Ron.  Are you okay?"

"Fine!" Ron chirped.  "Just… a little cold is all.  By the way, have fun with Parvati today."

"Yeah, I've got my fingers crossed," Harry replied.

*Me too,* Ron thought, *me too.*

"Well, I need some new parchment and a new quill, but that's it, what do you want to do, Ron?"

"Well… that's fine.  Maybe go get a Butterbeer afterwards?"

"Right," said Hermione, who began to rant on about the end of term finals.

By the time Hermione had found parchment and quill, Ron felt they were long overdue for a Butterbeer.  But as Hermione instinctively turned towards the Leaky Cauldron, Ron suddenly piped up, "Why don't we try the Seeing Willow up the street?  It's just a few blocks ahead.  And it's not as crowded."

"Well… okay," said Hermione agreeably, wrapping her cloak around her more tightly.  Walking the few chilled blocks had quieted Hermione down quite a bit.  "Gosh, it's freezing," she chattered after the first block.

Ron took a deep breath of the frosty air and said in a careful voice, "Here."  He lifted part of his cloak over Hermione's shoulders, allowing his arm to stay wrapped around her protectively.  She flinched slightly.

"Oh, er, thanks Ron."  She shifted beneath his arm, and then-- whether by the will of the cold or something else-- leaned further toward the warmth of Ron's body, and rested comfortably against him as they continued to trek toward the Seeing Willow.

Ron took shallow breaths and smiled.

The Seeing Willow was not crowded when Ron and Hermione arrived; its day had come and gone.  The Seeing Willow had been a popular establishment years before.  Now it sat, the wood a little more worn, the paint a little thicker—it was inviting, though a little too old fashioned to commonly attract the younger crowd.

"What'll it be, kids?" a middle-aged witch called from behind the bar.

"Two butter-beers, please," Ron said, setting 6 sickles on the counter.  Hermione was reaching into her bag, digging for her money.  "It's okay Hermione," Ron stopped her. "I've got it covered."

"You don't have to do that, I've got my money right here—"

"—Really.  My treat, okay?"

"Okay.  Well, thanks," Hermione said, Ron turning three shades of red.  They each took their butter-beer, found a sturdy-looking oak table near the fire that was burning in the fireplace, and sat down.  Ron opened his bottle and took a large sip.  He set his bottle down, and smiled at Hermione who was still trying to get her bottle open.

"Argh, I can't get it," she frowned.  "My hands are too cold."

Ron laughed and reached for the bottle.  In doing so, he brushed his hand against hers, and was surprised.  "Geez, Hermione," he exclaimed, "your hands are freezing!"  He held them in his own for a moment, and though he hesitated, he deliberately held them just a little longer than he usually would have.  Hermione made a little noise.  "Sorry," he muttered quickly, and opened her Butterbeer jerkily.

"So," Hermione began after a few seconds of silence, "Hagrid's not saying what the next creature we'll see in class is.  You know what that probably means."

Ron chuckled, and they fell into the comfortable rhythm of conversation they had always known.  *I've just got to relax,* he thought.  *Talking to Hermione shouldn't make me nervous.  Just let it be natural.*  But at that particular moment, Hermione started to laugh, and Ron felt his heart start beating about three times faster than it had been before. *Yeah,* he thought sarcastically.  *This is totally natural.*


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  I think people might notice a few inconsistencies with this chapter in comparison to the real books.  For one, Alicia is still the captain of the quidditch team, even though I believe she should have graduated.  We'll just go with it, mmkay?  Also, Ron is still nervous about playing quidditch, despite having played before.  The setting for this story is 6th year, and while he did play 5th year, he's still nervous.  Good.  Glad we got that settled.  :-P  Now, the story.

When Monday rolled around, things had returned to relative normalcy.  But still, the weekend's events replayed in Ron's mind over and over.  *Did she notice how I was acting?  Did I look like a git?  Do I even have a chance at pushing things farther than friends?*  By Friday, Alicia pointed out that perhaps Ron was spending a bit too much time daydreaming—or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that a bludger brought this fact to Ron's attention.

"RON!" Alicia bellowed, as he was nearly unseated by the wild black ball.  "We have a match TOMORROW!  Get your head out of the clouds!  That bludger could have been a quaffle, which could easily have meant ten points for Slytherin, now GET WITH IT!"

Ron shook himself.  Alicia was right.  The match against Slytherin could not be taken lightly—he had to focus.  In the back of his mind he saw the stands crawling with people, and one particular face in the crowd stayed with him as he dodged the next four bludgers to come his way.

The ceiling of the great hall still glowed with a mimic sunrise when Ron and Harry sat down to breakfast.  Harry, fully accustomed to pre-game jitters, shoveled some eggs onto his plate, while Ron stared at his own nervously.

"Eat up, Ron, you'll need the energy," Harry said, motioning at the table of food.  After a few minutes, Alicia approached the two, just as Ron was beginning to dissect a muffin.

"We're going to head down to the pitch now.  Be down in ten minutes," she instructed as she swept by them.  Following just behind her was Padma Patil.  Harry gave Ron an anxious look.

"Hi Harry," Padma said somewhat shyly.  "Good luck at the game today."

"Oh," Harry stuttered, caught a little off guard.  "Thanks, Padma."

"Would, um… would you mind if I walked down to the quidditch pitch with you?"

Harry smiled as he hopped out of his seat.  "Sure!"  However, he hesitated as Ron remained in his seat.

Ron looked up.  "Go on, Harry.  I'll see you in ten."

"Thanks, Ron.  And try to finish—well—doing whatever it is you're doing to that muffin."  Ron watched him exit with Padma, slightly envious.

"Seriously Ron, you can't digest a muffin with your hands."

"Hermione!" Ron shrieked at the sound of her voice.  She was sitting right across from him.  "What are you doing here?"

"Eating breakfast.  Though the same cannot be said for you, I see."  She gave a coy smile that made Ron blush.  "You look nervous.  Let me walk you down to the quidditch pitch."

"Ahhh…" Ron's mouth failed him.  "Thatidbegreat!" he finally slurred.  She waited patiently for some of the muffin to actually reach his mouth before they left the Great Hall and moseyed to the pitch, talking casually until they reached their destination.

"Well, I'm going to head to the stands.  I want to have a good seat," Hermione smiled again.  Ron returned the smile, as his mind hissed at him, *Say something!*  But before he could he felt her arms wrapped tightly around him.  "Good luck, Ron," she said softly, "I know you'll do great."  The next thing Ron knew, her bushy brown hair was headed in the direction opposite him as she ran towards the stands.

"Ready, Ron?"  Alicia asked a few minutes later as they stood under the bleachers, prepared to enter the pitch.

"Oh yes," Ron grinned.  As the team members kicked off their brooms in various directions, Ron rushed towards the goalpost on his end of the field.  He flew through the air on his broomstick, and still grinning himself, thought for a moment that he wouldn't really need his broomstick to fly today.  


End file.
